LIBRARY 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 


GIFT    OF 


Idle  $ong$ 
of  an 
Idle 
Soldier 

By  *  ficorac  m.  morclaita 


Price  fifty  Cents 


IDLE  5ONG5  OF 
AN  IDLE.  SOLDIER 

BY 

GEORGE  M.  MORELAND 


Copyright,  1909,  by  George  M.  Moreland 


Monterey,  California 

PRESS  OF  THE  MONTEREY  NEW  ERA 
1909 


Idle  5ongs  of  an  Idle  5oldier 

CONTENTS. 

Slumber's  Train  7 
The  Twenty-Ninth's  Farewell             -              _           9 

A  Soldier's  Grave                             -              -  11 

The  Old  Spinning  Wheel  1  3 

Thanksgiving  Day  1  5 

A  Dream  of  the  Farm  16 

The  Eighth's  A-Goin'  Home  1  7 

My  Mississippi  State  19 

Loneliness  20 

My  Treasure  21 

The  Song  I  Would  Sing  23 

A  Family  History  24 

Not  A  Care  27 

In  the  Far-Off  Philippines  28 

Will  We  Be  Comrades  Then?  29 

A  Dream  of  the  Past  30 

'Neath  a  Little  Mound  of  Clay  32 

Alone  33 

Un-Returned  Love  34 

When  the  Daylight  Dawns  Again  35 

A  Lover's  Ballad  36 
A  Letter  To  My  Mother                                       -      37 

Tombigbee's  Name  39 

Only  a  Dream  40 

The  Wind's  Advice  42 

A  Song  43 

My  Mississippi  Home  44 

A  Longing  46 

Farewell  For  Aye  and  Aye  47 

When  I  Am  Dead  48 

In  the  Long  Ago  49 

191677 


AUTHOR'S  NOTE. 

These  verses  are  the  product  of  an  idle  soldier,  as  the 
title  indicates,  and  are  submitted,  not  as  gems  of  thought 
which  will  endure  till  the  end  of  Time,  but  simply  as  a 
fancy  of  the  author  to  see  what  the  world  would  think 
of  these  verses  which  have  been  jotted  down  all  the  way 
from  New  York  to  the  Philippines  and  from  the  Mex- 
ican Gulf  to  the  Great  Lakes.  If  they  possess  merit, 
I  am  glad ;  if  they  do  not,  my  only  excuse  is  that  I  did 
the  best  I  could;  angels  can  do  no  more.  If  they 
should  be  the  cause  of  making  one  person's  life  con- 
tain one  ray  more  of  sunshine  or  making  one  moment 
of  one  life  less  sad  I  shall  feel  that  my  labors  have  not 
been  in  vain. 

GEORGE  M.  MORELAND. 

Presidio  of  Monterey,  California, 
July  5th,    1909. 


Idle  Songs  of  an  Idle  Soldier 


SLUMBER'S  TRAIN. 

Last  night  my  thoughts  went  rambling  back 

Adown  Life's  rugged  lane — 
Adown  a  portion  of  the  road 

Not  fill'd  with  sin  and  pain. 
I  saw  the  fields  of  cotton  white; 

I  heard  the  darkies'  song; 
I  saw  the  Mississippi  stream 

In  grandness  sweep  along. 

The  old  time  oak  was  standing  yet 

Where  father  kept  his  plows; 
And  Jake  was  whistling  "Dixie  Land" 

While  driving  home  the  cows. 
The  cotton  fields  were  just  the  same 

As  they  were  years  ago; 
The  Mississippi  murmured  still 

The  same  song,  soft  and  low. 

The  old  doorway  was  just  the  same 

Where  mother  sat  each  day 
And  told  us  tales  of  Bethlehem 

Or  watched  us  idly  play. 
I  saw  her  sitting  just  the  same 

All  busy  with  her  lace; 
I  leap'd  to  clasp  her  in  my  arms 

For  one  long,  sweet  embrace. 


8        IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER 


I  leap'd  to  clasp  her  in  my  arms 

For  one  embrace  again. 
'Twas  all  a  dream;  I'd  only  gone 

Away  on  Slumber's  Train. 
But  what  a  pleasure  'tis  to  go 

And  see  those  forms  again — 
To  see  my  parents-angels  now — 

On  Slumber's  noiseless  Train. 

Yes,  mother  sleeps  beneath  the  grass 

Close  by  my  father's  side, 
Where  Mississippi's  flowers  grow 

And  idly  ebbs  the  tide. 
But  soon  I'll  take  an  endless  ride 

On  Slumber's  noiseless  Train; 
When  wild  flow'rs  bloom  above  my  grave 

I'll  see  them  both  again. 


IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER        9 
THE  TWENTY-NINTH'S  FAREWELL. 

This  little  song  was  written  just  before  the  departure 
of  the  29th  Infantry  from  the  Philippine  Islands  to 
the  United  States  in  1  904.  While  that  regiment  was 
serving  in  the  Philippine  Islands  from  1902  to  1904 
it  was  stationed  a  greater  portion  of  its  time  on  the 
Island  of  Guimaras,  in  the  Visayan  group,  where  a 
large  reservation  was  cleared  by  the  soldiers  and  good 
barracks  built  by  their  own  hands. 

We   are   tired   of  tropic   breezes, 

We  are  tired  of  tropic  belles, 
And  we  long  to  cross  the  ocean 

Where  the  'Mericano  dwells. 
Two  long  years  we  fought  and  battled 

On  the  bonny  Guim'ras  Isle, 
And  we  battled,   nobly  battled 

With  the  bushes  all  the  while. 
From  the  jungles  of  the  forest 

Mighty,  massive  structures  rose; 
Speaking  biblically:  "The  wilderness 

Blossomed  even  as  the  rose." 
We  constructed  roads  and  bridges, 

Worked  in  mortar  and  in  clay — 
Never  tired  but  kept  on  working 

Just  as  hard  from  day  to  day. 
Yes;  perhaps  our  guns  were  rusty; 

Our  vocation  was  to  dig ; 
All  the  calls  the  buglers  "sabbied" 

Were  the  sweet  notes  of  "Fatigue." 
We  have  left  a  trail  behind  us, 

As  a  famous  poet  lined, 
We  have  not  been  idly  dreaming, 

Footprints   we   have   left   behind. 
O'er  the  cable  comes  the  message 

From  headquarters  o'er  the  foam, 
Saying,  "They  have  done  their  duty, 

Let  the  Twenty-Ninth  come  home." 


10      IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER 

We  are  eager  now  and  waiting 

For  the  final  word  to  go; 
Tho'  our  transport's  coming  swiftly, 

It  is  coming  still  too  slow. 
Let  us  as  we  lift  our  anchor 

Long  in  happy  chorus  dwell, 
"Three  long  cheers  for  bonny  Guim'ras, 

Three  long  cheers  and  then  farewell." 
Let  our  band  as  we  are  leaving 

Play  the  strains  of  Howard  Payne, 
Let  them  echo  o'er  the  island 

We  will  never  see  again. 
Let  us  as  we  lift  our  anchor 

Long  in  happy  chorus  dwell, 
"Three  long  cheers  for  bonny  Guim'ras, 

Three  long  cheers  and  then  farewell." 


IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER H 

A  SOLDIER'S  GRAVE. 

On  October  31,  1902,  while  on  detached  service 
in  an  out-of-the-way  barrio  on  the  Island  of  Guimaras, 
Philippine  Islands,  Private  John  Minix,  Company  B, 
29th  Infantry,  U.  S.  A,  was  stricken  with  cholera 
and  died  within  a  few  hours  before  medical  aid  could 
possibly  reach  him  from  Camp  Jossman,  twenty  miles 
away.  It  was  his  death  and  sad  burial  in  the  solitudes 
of  the  native  forest  that  suggested  the  following  lines: 

By  the  gentle,  flowing  river, 

Where  the  palms  and  mangoes  wave, 

Where   the-  grasses   softly  quiver, 
Is  a  lonely  soldier's  grave. 

It  was  dark  when  he  was  buried, 

And  the  gentle  rain  did  fall, 
As  the  soldiers  tramped  and  hurried 

With  that  solemn,  deathly  pall. 

Down  we  laid  him  with  a  murmur, 

As  we  whispered  each  to  each 
Of  the  sad,  heart-breaking  rumor 

That  would  to  his  mother  reach. 

Far  away  across  the  ocean 

She  was  waiting  patiently 
For  the  day  of  great  commotion 

When  he'd  kneel  beside  her  knee. 

But  beneath  the  island  grasses 

There  we  laid  him,  meek  and  low, 

Where  he  slumbers  with  the  masses 
Where  the  timid  flow'rets  grow. 

Let  him  sleep  as  he  is  sleeping — 

For  his  land  his  life  he  gave — 
But  at  home  his  mother's  weeping 

Once  to  see  his  lonely  grave. 


12      IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER 

Pluck  one  flow'ret  for  his  mother; 

Send  it  to  her  far  away, 
For  we  know  there  is  none  other 

Who  would  cherish  it  for  aye. 

Murmur,  wind,  and  grasses  quiver; 

Gentle  palm  trees,  lightly  wave; 
For  beside  the  flowing  river 

Is  a  soldier's  lonely  grave. 


IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER      13 
THE  OLD  SPINNING  WHEEL. 

Up  in  the  garret  white  with  dust, 

I  chanced  once  to  steal 
And  found  a  sight  which  pleased  my  taste — 

The  old  time  spinning  wheel. 
'Twas  cast  aside  as  useless  now, 

The  "cranky"  wheel  must  go; 
In  modern  times  of  flying  work 

The  old  wheel  is  too  slow. 


So  it  was  roughly  cast  aside — 

This  dear  old  spinning  wheel, 
Which  many  times  had  hummed  a  song 

To  an  old  time  Georgia  reel. 
And  when  the  boys  would  come  to  dance, 

And  bring  the  "gals"  along, 
The  wheel  would  sit  an  ornament 

Among  the  merry  throng. 

I  wonder  what  dear  grandma'd  say, 

If  she   were   living  still, 
(But  now  she's  sleeping  'neath  the  grass 

Close  by  the  silent  mill) 
Were  she  to  only  get  a  glance 

Cr  even  faintly  know 
The  wheel  was  counted  useless  now 

That  she  used  long  ago. 

There's  many  a  tale  she'd  tell  about 

This  dear  old  wheel,  I  say, 
Which,  when  a  bride,  she  brought  with  her 

From   Georgia   far   away. 
She'd  tell  of  how  she  used  to  stand 

And  merrily  would  turn 
While  twisting  thread,  so  soft  and  white, 

Her  heart  with  love  did  burn. 


14      IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER 

She'd  tell,  too,  how  grandfather  sat 

While  she  was  all  astir 
And  told  her  of  the  ardent  love 

He  bore  alone  for  her. 
But  these  old  hearts  are  silent  now 

And  nevermore  will  love 
Till  they  unite  again  in  peace 

In   boundless  realms  above. 

Down  in  the  graveyard's  silent  shade 

They  now  forgotten  lie; 
And  in  oblivion  they  will  rest 

Until  they  mount  the  sky. 
So,  too,  the  old  wheel  is  forgot, 

Aye,  like  all  earthly  things; 
And  as  I  stand  in  the  garret  dark 

It  solace  to  me  brings 

That  though  we  are  forgotten  here 

In  realms  of  earthly  wrong, 
That  we  will  never  be  forgot 

Among  the  Master's  throng. 


IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER       15 


THANKSGIVING  DAY. 

That  happy  day  is  drawing  close 

When  erring  boys  who  roam 
The  land  from  Maine  to  Mexico 

Will  long  again  for  home. 
No  matter  what  a  man  may  be, 

A  "Yank"  or  from  the  South, 
The  thought  of  turkey  baking  brown 

Brings  water  to  his  mouth. 

I've  rambled  east  and  rambled  west, 

But  it  occurs  to  me 
That  turkey's  just  as  good  in  Maine 

As  'tis  in  Tennessee. 
When  mother  spreads  the  table  out 

And  we   begin   to   dine, 
We  don't  care  who's  the  President, 

The  turkey  tastes  so  fine. 

We  thank  the  Lord  that  we're  alive; 

We  thank  him  for  the  day 
When  we  can  eat  our  fill  without 

A  doctor's  bill  to  pay. 
We  eat  the  pie  that  mother  brings 

And  doughnuts  by  the  score; 
We  simply  eat  the  turkey  up 

And  wish  there 'd  been  some  more. 


We're  thankful  to  the  blessed  Lord 

For  good  Thanksgiving  Day; 
But  some  of  us,  if  we  but  dared, 

Would  humbly  to  Him  pray 
To  change  this  great  and  goodly  feast, 

For  'tis  exceeding  clear 
That  we  would  have  Thanksgiving  Day 

Come  twice  in  every  year. 


16      IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER 
A  DREAM  OF  THE  FARM. 

When  nighttime  has  come  and  the  winds  from  the  south 

Waft  zephyrs  of  odorous  spring, 
'Tis  then  that  I  sit  in  my  armchair  and  smoke 

And  ponder  on  many  a  thing. 
Methinks  as  I  sit  in  my  old  oaken  chair 

I  hear  still  the  sweet-noted  bell 
Of  Star  Face  a-comin'  right  leisurely  home 

When  sunset  has  darkened  the  dell. 


I  hear  in  the  barnyard  the  pigs  and  the  geese, 

Like  Babel  the  day  of  its  fall ; 
And  father  is  raking  the  sweet  scented  hay 

To  feed  the  tired  ox  in  his  stall. 
The  gobbler  is  strutting  his  wings  on  the  grass, 

His  gills  are  all  rosy  and  red; 
The  chickens  are  singing  their  songs  in  the  yard 

Before  they  retire  to  their  bed. 

The  boys  have  returned  from  the  field  with  their  plows, 

And  mother  has  welcomed  them  in. 
(Ah,  now  they  are  men,  but  how  much  would  they  give 

For  mother's  kind  welcome  again!) 
Louisa  is  singing  a  song  at  the  well — 

A  merry  and  rollicksome  lay ; — 
And  all  things  go  merry,  methinks,  on  the  farm 

When  closes  this  amorous  day. 

I  wake  to  my  senses;  my  pipe  has  burned  out; 

The  moon  in  the  heavens  rides  high; 
The  zephyrs  still  waft  their  sweet  perfume  about — 

A  man  full  of  sorrow  am  I. 
Methirks  it  is  sweet  when  the  night  curtains  fall — 

(Ch,  surely  'twill  do  me  no  harm!) 
To  dream  of  the  days  that  have  gone  long  ago, 

When  I  was  a  boy  on  the  farm. 


IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER      17 

THE  EIGHTH'S  A-GOIN'  HOME. 

These  verses  were  written  just  prior  to  the  departure 
for  the  United  States  of  the  8th  Infantry  from  the 
Philippine  Islands  in  1908.  The  8th  Infantry  was 
stationed  on  the  Islands  of  Panay  and  Guimaras  while 
in  the  Philippines. 

While  this  regiment  was  serving  in  the  Philippines 
and  also  since  that  date,  an  order  existed  requiring 
all  regiments  to  make  certain  practice  marches  weekly; 
also  to  swim  prescribed  distances  with  full  field  kit  and 
blanket  roll. 

There's  a  lovely  snow-white  vessel 

Come  from  far  across  the  sea; 
Come  to   take  us  to  a  country 

Where  we  so  much  long  to  be. 
Yes ;  our  big  War  Chief  has  sent  it 

Far  across  the  ragin'  foam 
With  instructions  plain,  emphatic, 

For  the  Eighth  to  hurry  home. 

'Cause  he  knows  that  we've  been  strayin' 

In  this  tropic  land  too  long; 
'Cause  he  knows  that  our  "cabeza" 

Nowadays  ain't  very  strong. 
An'  our  Uncle  Samuel  loves  us 

So  he  sent  for  us  to  go 
Back  across  the  ragin'  waters 

Where  the  temp'rate  breezes  blow. 

Where  the  hikes  may  be  a-plenty 

Yet  there's  roads  to  hike  'em  on; 
Where  there  ain't  no  swimmin'  orders 

An'  a  roll  to  swim  upon. 
We  may  sometimes  sit  an'  ponder 

Of  a  darlin'  sweet  Marie 
Sittin'  in  her  bamboo  "casa" 

Dreamin'  dreams  'bout  you  an'  me. 


18      IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER 

But  we'll  have  a  sweetheart  yonder — 

One  that   "hablas"   English  fine; 
An'  her  hair'll  not  be  oily 

Like  the  one  we  left  behind. 
When  we  get  a  dollar  yonder 

In  that  land  we're  goin'  to, 
It'll  be  a  great  big  good-un, 

And' 11  bring  its  value,  too. 

There  a  dime  ain't  called  "peseta" 

An'  a  "baca"  aint  a  cow; 
Darn  these  "Islas  Filipinas" 

We  don't  like  'em  anyhow. 
When  the  Eighth's  a-leavin'  harbor 

On  that  glad  an'  happy  day 
On  two  spots  we'll  look  with  pleasure — 

Guim'ras  Isle  and  fair  Panay. 

We  will  cheer  an'  scream  an'  holler — 

All  of  us  who're  so  inclined — 
Not  because  we  love  the  Islands; 

'Cause  we're  leavin'   'em  hehind. 
Then  we'll  soon  see  God's  good  country — 

Our  own  darlin'  U.  S.  A., 
Land  we  love  an'  land  that  loves  us, 

Where  we'll  surely  ever  stay. 

When  we  hear  the  East  a-callin' 

In  its  silent  mystic  strain 
(As  most  surely  it  will  call  us) 

We  will  let  it  call  in  vain. 


Yes;  the  big  white  boat's  a-comin' 
Far  across  the  ragin'  foam; 

An'  the  War  chief  sent  a  message 
For  the  Eighth  to  hurry  home. 


IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER 19 

MY  MISSISSIPPI  STATE. 

I  rambled  away  from  the  home  I  had  loved 

To  seek  for  the  riches  of  men; 
But  soon  as  my  ship  to  a  harbor  has  come, 

I'll  go  to  my  old  home  again. 
I've  long  been  away,  but  the  girl  I  have  loved 

Is  waiting  there  patiently  yet; 
Too  true  to  deceive  is  my  bonny  sweetheart — 

She's  waiting  and  ne'er  will  forget. 

Chorus : 

Where  the  mocking  birds  are  singing,  and  the  vesper 

bells  are  ringing, 
She  is  waiting  by  the  gate; 
Where  the  sun  is  always  brightest,  and  one's  cares  are 

always  lightest — 
In  my  Mississippi  State. 

I'm  longing  to  see  the  old  parents  I  left, 

And  friends,  who'll  forever  be  true; 
They  will  eagerly  wait  for  the  tales  I  will  tell 

Of  sailors,  and  billows  so  blue. 
Another  is  there,  and  she's  waiting,  I  know, 

Where  one  time  she  said; she  would  be; 
So  when  I  get  home  the  first  place  I  will  go 

Is  down  to  the  June-apple  tree. 

(Chorus.) 


20      IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER 


LONELINESS. 

The  night  is  dark  and  the  wind  is  blowing — 

The  vines  they  slap  at  my  window-pane; 
The  night-birds  shriek  and  the  river's  flowing 

In  the  lonely,  drear  November  rain. 
My  life  is  sad  and  my  heart  is  aching 

For  tender  love  that  I've  never  known; 
What  care  the  world  if  my  heart  be  breaking? 

The  world  is  loved  and  I'm  all  alone! 
When  you  but  know  of  the  pain  and  sorrow 

That  fills  the  world  which  you  think  is  bright 
You'll  understand  on  some  sweet  tomorrow 

This  aching  heart  on  this  rainy  night. 


IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER      21 

MY  TREASURE. 

Within  a  cozy,  jewelled  case, 

And  safely  locked  away, 
Is  laid  the  ring  my  darling  wore 

Upon  our  wedding  day. 
'Tis  not  a  costly  looking  thing, 

Like  lords  and  ladies  wear, 
But  millions  could  not  buy  this  ring 

I  value  it  so  dear! 

How  well  can  I  recall  the  day 

When  she  stood  by  my  side 
And  said  the  words,  so  very  sweet, 

That  made  her  e'er  my  bride. 
'Tis  forty  years  agone  since  then 

When  Bess  and  I  were  wed ; 
But  twenty  years  my  darling's  lain 

Out  in  the  church  yard — dead! 

Her  face — so  fair — has  faded  now; 

Her  form  has  turned  to  clay; 
But  she's  the  same  sweet  girl  toime 

As  on  our  wedding  day. 
When  zhe  was  in  her  coffin  dead, 

Her  hands  so  icy  cold — 
I  krelt  there  by  my  darling  wife 

And  took  that  band  of  gold! 

I  keep  it  safely  locked  away, 

And  only  now  and  then, 
When  growing  heartsick,  sad  and  lone, 

I  look  at  it  again. 
The  grasses  grow  above  her  grave; 

The  mock-birds  sing  around 
The  spot  where  darling  Bessie  sleeps — 

That  simple,  lowly  mound. 

There's  room  enough  close  by  her  side 
For  one  more  narrow  bed; 


22      IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER 

I'll  lay  me  down  by  Bessie's  side 

At  last,  when  I  am  dead. 
I'll  join  my  darling  once  again, 

Where  seraphs  constant  sing ; 
And  when  I  pass  the  "pearly  gates" 

I'll  give  her  back  her  ring! 


IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER      23 

THE  SONG  I  WOULD  SING. 

A  poet  sang  of  a  little  bird 

With  a  shattered,  broken  wing; 
He  told  the  story  so  often  heard, 
So  oft  the  hearts  of  the  tender  stirred, 

What  a  sad,  sad  tune  'twould  sing. 

The  poet  told  of  the  very  way, 

In    the    merry    summertime, 
While  other  birds  were  so  glad  and  gay, 
This  bird  would  sit  and  would  never  play, 

Tho'  the  days  were  like  a  rhyme. 

Were  I  a  poet  with  songs  to  sing 

I  would  tell  another  part; 
I'd  never  tell  of  a  broken  wing; 
I'd  tell  of  a  sadder  and  nobler  thing; 

I'd  sing  of  a  broken  heart. 

I'd  tell  the  way  that  the  heart  was  broke — 

I  would  tell,  if  poet  can, 
How  heart  as  strong  as  the  sturdy  oak 
Was  crushed  with  only  a  woman's  stroke; 

How  it  left  a  heartless  man! 


24      IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER 


A  FAMILY  HISTORY. 

I  went  to  the  old  fam'ly  Bible 

Where   father   recorded   the   name 
Of  all  of  his  lads  and  his  lasses 

The  very  same  day  that  they  came. 
I  turned  thro'  the  old  yellow  pages; 

The  names  that  I  saw — here  are  all — 
John,   William  and  Annie  and  Bessie — 

The  youngest  were  Flora  and  Paul. 

I  stood  and  I  pondered  those  pages; 

O,  where  are  those  children  all  gone! 
They  once  were  around  the  old  roof-tree, 

But  now,  like  a  bird,  they  have  flown. 
There's  John- — he  the  oldest  and  wisest — 

Where  now  in  the  wide  world  is  he? 
His  longing  was  always  for  sailing 

Upon  the  dark,  billowy  sea. 

He  left  the  home  port  for  New  Zealand 

One  fine  sunny  morning  in   May; 
And  long  mother  watched,  long  she  waited, 

Till  worry  her  life  wore  away. 

Next  William  we  see  on  the  record — 

Observe,  please,  at  once  that  is  me. 
In  childhood  we  all  played  together, 

But  now  there  is  none  here  but  me. 

The  next  one  we  see  is  our  Annie — 

The  first  of  us  all  to  depart — 
Too  true  for  this  old  world  of  sorrow, 

TOD  noble  her  patient  young  heart. 
We  laid  her  to  rest  by  the  willow 

Down    near   where    the    spring-brook    doth    fall; 
From  morning  till  night  in  the  meadow 

The  mock-birds  they  whistle  and  call. 


IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER      25 

Comes  next  on  the  list  little  Bessie, 

The  wisest,  most  learned  of  us  all; 
Alas!  but  she  wedded  a  drunkard; 

Her  life  was  made  bitter  as  gall. 
She  worried  and  pined  for  her  husband; 

With  fever  she's  striken  one  day; 
Her  sorrow  and  fever's  wild  ravage 

Soon  wore  her  weak  life-cords  away. 

We  laid  her  to  rest  over  yonder 

Where  mock-birds  forever  doth  sing, 
Where  Bessie,  our  darling,   is  sleeping 

Down  close  by  the  brook  and  the  spring. 

And,  then,  there  is  Flora,  the  darling, 

The  smallest  of  all  of  the  girls; 
The   pet  of   all   of  the   household — 

The  darling  with  ringlets  and  curls. 

We  loved  her  but  she  was  too  noble; 

When  fever  was  raging,  our  dear 
Went  forth  as  a  nurse,  and  her  tomb-stone 

Says,  "Sleep  here  our  good  volunteer/* 

The  last  one  of  all  on  the  record — 

Yes,  the  very  last  one  of  us  all — 
Is  the  jolliest  one  of  the  family, 

The  rolHcking,  rackety  Paul. 

And  near  to  his  name  in  the  Bible 

Is  a  clipping  from  out  of  the  "News," 
Which  tells  of  our  hero's  sad  story 

In  fanciful  lips  like  a  Muse. 
It   tells  how  a   soldier  has  fallen 

In  our  tropical  land  far  away, 
Who  bore  the  bright  banner  still  forward 

In  thickest  and  hottest  of  fray. 


26      IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER 


It  tells  how  he  fell  and  was  buried 

In  islands  far  over  the  sea ; 
Of  all  of  this  family  of  children 

There's  none  of  them  living  but  me. 
Sometimes  as  I  stand  here  and  ponder 

While  sinks  the  bright  sun  in  the  west, 
Almost  do  I  wish  I  could  follow 

The  loved  ones  who've  entered  to  rest. 


IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER      27 
NOT  A  CARE. 

We  have  trod  the  rugged  pathway 

Thro'  the  vista  of  the  past; — 
Trod  it  with  our  hearts  together 

But  they're  severed  now  at  last. 


I  am  sitting  by  my  fireside 
Thinking  of  the  Long  Ago, 

And  outside  my  window  casements 
Chilly  winter  breezes  blow. 

All  the  little  garden's  covered 
With  a  sheet  of  snowy  white, 

But   my   thoughts   are   drifting   backward 
To  another  happy  night 

When  the  zephyrs  from  the  Southland 
Fanned  her  young,  unwrinkled  brow; 

Now.  I'm  sitting  brooding  o'er  it; 
Ah,  'tis  but  a  mem'ry  now! 

In  the  little  garden  corner 

Is  a  spot  all  white  with  snow, 

But  beneath   the  small  embankment 
Sleeps  her  faded  form,  I  know. 

But  her  soul  is  watching,  waiting, 

Far  beyond  our  earthly  ken 
At  the  far-off  gates  of  jasper 

Where  she'll  surely  let  me  in 

Parted  now  but  not  forever; 

Dearest  ties  are  broken  here; 
Over  there  there's  not  a  heartache, 

Not  a  sorrow,  not  a  care. 


28      IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER 


IN  THE  FAR-OFF  PHILIPPINES. 

When  the  sun  was  shining  brightly 

O'er  the  Mississippi  hills, 
And  the  waters  murmured  lightly 

In  the  rivers  and  the  rills, 
Stood  a  youth  his  farewell  giving 

To  a  maiden  of  his  dreams; 
As  a  soldier  he  was  going 

To  the  far-off  Philippines. 

Chorus : 

"When  the  cruel  war  is  ended,  darling, 
I'll  return  and  ask  you  to  be  mine; 

But  when  I  am  far  away,  my  darling, 
I'll  be  still  the  same — and  always  thine. 

When  the  sweet  magnolias  bloom, 
And  the  mock-bird    sings  his  tune, 

I'll  return  and  still  be  always  thine." 

But  the  papers  told  the  story 

How  he  nobly  fought  and  fell, 
Fighting  for  the  "Flag  of  Glory;" 

And  his  solemn  funeral  knell 
Echoed  o'er  the  hills  and  valleys 

Of  the  Island  of  Panay; 
While  his  sweetheart  thought  and  pondered 

O'er  the  last  words  he  did  say: 

(Chorus.) 


IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER      29 

WILL  WE  BE  COMRADES  THEN? 

To  my  good  Army  friend,  Musician  Peyton  Roscoe, 
Company  L,  29th  Infantry,  U.  S.  A.,  these  lines  are 
dedicated : 

When  the  years  have  drifted  onward 

Down  the  beaten  paths  of  Time, 
Will    our    friendship    still    glide    smoothly 

Like  a  sweetly  written  rhyme? 
Will  you  not  forget  me,  comrade, 

As  you  face  the  world  of  men? 
When  you  face  the  world  of  battle, 

Will  we  still  be  comrades  then? 

When  you  face  the  stormy  conflict — 

Roam  'neath  other  skies  so  blue — 
Don't  forget  the  dear  old  comrade 

Who  tried  always  to  be  true. 
If  you  ever  get  in  trouble — 

Should  you  sorely  need  a  friend — 
Just  remember  dear  old  by-gones; 

We  can  still  be  comrades  then. 

Tho'  perhaps  we  part  forever, 

I  cannot,  cannot  forget 
All  the  days  when  we  were  comrades; 

O,  we  must  be  comrades  yet! 
Comrades,  comrades — yes,  forever 

Through  the  earthly  walks  of  men; 
When  we  cross  the  "Pearly  Portals," 

May  we  still  be  comrades  then. 


30      IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER 


A  DREAM  OF  THE  PAST. 

Last  night  I  dreamed  of  days  agone, 

Of  childhood's  hallowed  past; 
Of  days  all  fill'd  with  blissful  charms 

Too  pleasant  far  to  last. 
I  stood  again  beneath  the  shade 

Close  by  the  old  farm  well; 
I  watched  the  cattle  languid  roam 

Down  in  the  pleasant  dell. 

The  fragrance  of  that  pleasant  dell 

Pervaded  everywhere; 
The  tinkle  of  old  Star  Face's  bell 

Distinctly  I  could  hear,  — 
Could  hear  as  in  the  days  of  old 

When  in  the  evening  gloam 
I  used  to  wander  down  the  lane 

To  drive  the  cattle  home. 

Across  the  fields  I  heard  a  strain 

Of  music  fill  the  air, — 
The  same  old  song  of  Mary  Vane, 

The  girl  I  loved  so  dear. 
When  evening  came  and  I  went  forth 

To  drive  the  cattle  home 
She'd  always  wait  beside  the  gate 

And  sing  there  in  the  gloam. 

Ah,  Time,  thy  cruel  hand  has  touched 

The  beauty  of  her  brow; 
The  daisies  in  the  pleasant  dell 

Sway  gently  o'er  her  now! 
Long  years  ago  she  went  away 

To  with  the  angels  soar; 
Tho'  long  I  wait  beside  the  gate 

She  sings  to  me  no  more. 


IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER      31 

I  always  hear  her  in  my  dreams 

Still  singing  soft  and  low 
Whene'er  I  drive  the  cattle  home 

In  evening's  tinted  glow. 
Some  day,  when  Life's  great  war  shall  cease, 

I'll  soar  beyond  the  stars, 
And  Mary'll  waiting  be  for  me 

Still  singing  by  the  bars'. 


32       IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER 


'NEATH  A  LITTLE  MOUND  OF  CLAY 

When  the  April  flowers  were  blooming 

In  the  Spring-time  long  ago, 
Mother  kissed  me  on  the  doorstep, 

And  her  hair  so  like  the  snow, 
Fell  upon  my  boyish  shoulders, 

And  her  tears  fell  like  the  rain, 
As  she  whispered,  "I'll  be  waiting, 

Darling,  when  you  come  again." 

Chorus : 

"I'll  be  waiting  at  the  homestead, 

Looking  for  you  every  day; 
Don't  forget  that  mother  loves  you 

In  the  old  home  far  away." 

Years  fled  by  with  fleeting  footsteps; 

Then  I  rambled  home  again — 
Home  again  to  see  my  mother — 

But  my  journey  was  in  vain. 
There  stood  still  the  old  magnolias 

Where  I  often  used  to  play; 
But,  alas!  my  mother  waited 

'Neath  a  little  mound  of  clay. 

(Chorus.) 

All  the  birds  were  sweetly  singing, 

And  the  swift  Pearl  swept  along; 
But  I  heeded  not  its  music 

Nor  the  mock-bird's  merry  song. 
I  stood  thinking  of  my  mother, 

By  that  little  mound  of  clay, 
And  her  words  I  still  remember, 

As  she  kissed  me  and  did  say: 

(Chorus.) 


IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER      33 
ALONE. 

The  night  is  dark  and  the  wind  is  blowing; 

No  stars  peep  out  with  a  brilliant  light; 
The  night-birds  shriek  and  the  river's  flowing — 

Is  flowing  swift  thro'  the  dark,  dark  night. 
My  life  is  sad  and  my  heart  is  aching; 

No  love  speaks  out  in  a  gentle  tone; 
I'm  sad  and  lone  and  my  heart  is  breaking — 

Is  breaking  sure,  and  I'm  all  alone! 


3.!_  IDLE  SQNGS  QF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER 
UN-RETURNED  LOVE. 

The  world  may  be  a  cheery  place 

If  those  we  love  will  love  us; 
The  heart  will  be  as  soft  and  pure 

As  heav'n  that  smiles  above  us. 

But  if  the  one  our  heart  has  chose 

Does  not  see  fit  to  love  us, 
The  day  will  full  of  darkness  be, 

The  stars  ne'er  shine  above  us. 

The  saddest  thing  in  all  the  world 

By  human  tongue  e'er  spoken, 
Is,   "Life  was  wrecked  by  wrong-spent  love,- 

A  heart  has  bled  and's  broken." 


IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER 35 

WHEN  THE  DAYLIGHT  DAWNS  AGAIN. 

O,  dark  is  the  midnight  hour — 

So  dark  and  full  of  gloom; 
And  my  heart  is  sad ;  for  pleasure 

There  is  never,  never  room. 

I  long  for  the  days  of  pleasure 

To  come  and  ease  my  pain, 
For  I'll  be  happy  surely 

When  the  daylight  dawns  again. 

O,  days  of  truth  and  Constance, 

When  will  you  ever  come? 
before  I'm  sleeping  lowly 

in  the  coldness  of  the  tomb? 

When  the  one  I  love  shall  love  me, 
'Twill  ease  my  heart  of  pain, 

And  I'll  be  happy  surely 

When  the  daylight  dawns  again. 

When  love  shall  be  returned 

For  an  ever  constant  love, 
'Nd  we  love  as  do  the  angels 

In  the  brilliant  Courts  Above — 

'Tis  then  that  I'll  be  happy 

And  free  from  grief  and  pain; 

When  the  one  I  love  shall  love  me 
Then  the  day  will  dawn  again. 


36      IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER 
A  LOVER'S  BALLAD. 

The  sun  was  fast  sinking  to  rest  in  the  west 
As  I  walked  all  alone  by  the  sea; 

As  I  wandered  my  thoughts  flew  over  the  wave, 
And  were  ever,  my  darling,  with  thee. 

Tho'  oceans  divide  us,  seas  murmur  between, 
Still  my  heart  is  forever  with  you; 

I'm  dreaming  always  of  those  wonderful  eyes, 
Like  the  stars  in  the  heavens  of  blue. 

I  sit  by  the  sea.  and  think  of  my  love, 
While  the  moon  pours  its  radiant  light 

Upon  my  sad  form;  while  I  list  to  the  bird 
Sing  its  low,  plaintive  warble  at  night. 

But  love  on,  young  heart;  'tis  well  that  you  love, 
Tho'  you  love  at  a  terrible  cost; 

For  a  man's  life  is  nobler  and  purer  at  last, 
Tho'  even  he  has  loved  and  has  lost! 


IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER      37 
A  LETTER  TO  MY  MOTHER. 

Lovingly  dedicated  to  the  dear  old  lady  'way  down 
in  Mississippi  to  whom  it  is  addressed. 

Mother,  when  the  twilight  lengthens 

O'er  the  hills  at  eventide, 
Oft  I  linger  sad  and  lonely, 

Wishing  I  were  by  your  side. 

Oft  I  think  of  days  now  numbered 
With  the  dead  decaying  past 

When  you  soothed  my  aching  forehead — 
O,  that  they  could  ever  last ! 

Sometimes  when  the  night-time  hovers 
O'er  my  narrow,  cheerless  bed, 

Some  kind  angel  whispers  softly 
Of  the  happy  days  now  dead; 

Of  the  long  lanes  lined  with  cowslips 
And  the  gentle  winds  of  May; 

Of  the  meadows  where  the  farmers 
Gather   in   the   new-mown   hay. 

I  could  hear  the  soft,  low  murmur 

Of   the   tinkling   little   rills 
Winding  'mongst  the  ferns  and  willows 

From  the  distant,  verdant  hills. 

Mother,  will  those  halcyon  moments 

Ever  come  to  me  again, 
Making  this  poor  heart  grow  lighter, 

Easing  me  of  all  my  pain? 

When  again  you  clasp  me,  mother, 

To  your  gentle,  loving  breast, 
There  my  head  will  stay  forever, 

And  in  peace  and  gladness  rest. 


38      IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER 


I  will  ever  hover  near  you 
In  sweet  harmony  and  love, 

Till  we  pass  beyond  the  portals 
Of  that  brilliant  Court  Above! 


IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER      39 

TOMBIGBEE'S  NAME. 

It  is  always  interesting  to  know  why  some  of  our 
rivers,  lakes,  mountains  and  even  states,  acquire  such 
romantic,  unusual  Indian  names.  The  following  verses 
give  the  true  cause  for  the  naming  of  the  Tombigbee 
River,  a  beautiful  and  fascinating  stream  in  our 
Southland : 

They  are  telling  now  a  story 

How  Tombigbee  got  its  name, 

How  a  poor  old  coffin-maker 

Brought  the  queer  name  into  fame. 

Years  ago  when  Mississippi 

Was  infested  by  the  braves 
Of    the    Chickasaws,    and    others, 

Who  for  dead  men  made  no  graves, 

Came  a  lonely  pale-faced  rambler, 

Settled  near  the  river's  flow, 
And  upon  the  rippling  waters 

Watched  the  Indians  come  and  go; 

Saw  them  heap  departed  Indians 

In  embankments  very  high; 
So  he  made  for  them  a  coffin, 

"For   your   bravest  when   they   die?." 

Thus  they  called  him  "coffin-maker," 
Or  "Tom-big-bee,"  as  they  say, 

And   the  river  near  his  dwelling 
Call  they  that  unto  this  day. 


40      IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER 
ONLY  A  DREAM. 

The  brook  meandered  its  way  along 

While  I  stood  upon  its  bank; 
The  partridge  whistled  his  autumn  song, 

And  the  cattle  came  and  drank. 
The  leaves  of  autumn  were  falling  near, 

Floating  idly  down  the  stream; 
The  fields  and  forests  were  lone  and  sere, 

When  I  slept  and  dreamed  a  dream. 


I  dreamed  I  rambled  the  meadows  o'er 

With  a  heart  all  gay  and  light; 
The  light  of  eyes  that  I'll  see  no  more 

Made  both  wood  and  field  more  bright. 
The  rippling  laugh  that  my  darling  had 

Was  so  very  sweet  to  me, 
I  soon  forgot  I  was  lone  and  sad; 

I  was  fill'd  with  mirth  and  glee. 


A  bird  was  singing  his  autumn  song 

But  his  notes  were  lost  to  me, 
For  I  was  happy  the  whole  day  long; 

I  was  loved,  and  love  was  free; 
We  talked  of  seraphs  and  golden  wings, 

While  we   watched   the   rippling   tide; 
We  could  hear  the  harp  with  its  silver  strings 

Play  the  air  for  groom  and  bride. 

I  stooped  to  steal  from  her  tender  lips 

One  kiss  as  a  gift  that  day! 
I  woke  to  find  that  the  joys  man  sips 

Will  forever  fly  away. 
I'd  slept  and  dreamed  on  the  brook's  low  bank 

And  my  darling  whom  I'd  found, 
With  whom  the  nectar  of  gods  I'd  drank 

Was  asleep  beneath  a  mound 


IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER      41 

Close  by  the  brook  'neath  a  chestnut  tree 

Where  the  autumn  birds  flew  near 
And  sang  their  songs  full  of  simple  glee; 

Ah,  the  songsters  did  not  care! 
i  hey  little  dream  of  the  pain  and  woe 

That  will  fill  a  human  life; 
I  wish   that   I  were  a  songster  so 

I'd  forget  this  pain  and  strife. 


42      IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER 
THE  WIND'S  ADVICE. 

The  day  was  done,  the  sun  had  set 
Behind  the  banks  of  red; 

How  many  hopes  with  it  has  gone 
Into  oblivion-dead! 

The  wind  sighed  softly  in  the  trees; 

It  meant  for  me  to  hear; 
"Faint  not,  but  ever  struggle  on, 

Tho'  dark  the  roads  appear. 

"There  never  was  a  battle  fought 

Without  an  hour  of  fear; 
No  pinnacle  we  e'er  surmount 

Without  a  bitter  tear. 

"Then,  gird  thy  armor,  face  the  world, 

And  nevermore  despair, 
For,  tho'  Life's  road  is  fill'd  with  thorns 

The  end  is  shining  fair. 

"Remember  that  the  treasure-trove 
Is  for  the  man  who  toils; 

And  he   who   in   the   conflict  fights 
Shall  win  the  victor's  spoils." 


IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER      43 
A  SONG. 

Are  you  thinking  of  me  as  I'm  thinking  of  you, 

In  your  home  far  over  the  sea? 
Wherever  you  roam  in  this  wide  world  tonight, 

My  love,  are  you  thinking  of  me? 

I  stood  by  the  stream  where  so  often  we'd  sit 
And   talk  of   the  sweet  future  days; 

O,  Love,  how  my  heart  in  pure  sadness  did  break 
With  sharp  Disappointment's  harsh  rays! 

Are  you  looking  tonight  upon  those  bright  stars? 

Are  their  lights,  too,  falling  on  you? 
I  wish  some  angel  would  come  from  above 

And  make  a  bright  star  of  me,  too. 

I  would  sit  on  my  crest  in  the  dome  of  the  skies 

And  look,   Love,  forever  on  thee; 
I  think  of  thee  constantly  all  of  the  days; 

O,  Love,  art  thou  thinking  of  me? 


44      IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER 

MY  MISSISSIPPI   HOME. 

When  the  winter  snow  is  falling, 

And  my  heart  is  fill'd  with  gloom, 
Think  I  often  of  the  meadows 

Where  the  lovely  jasmines  bloom. 
I  was  but  a  youth,  and  longing 

All  the  weary  world  to  roam, 
When  I  bade  farewell  to  mother 

And  my   Mississippi  home. 

Chorus : 
But   I'll  never  see  again  all  those  splendors ;  now  'tis 

vain; 

And  I'll  never  see  my  dear  old  mother  more. 
When  I  left  I  broke  her  heart;  there  forever  did  we 

part, 
Near  the  jasmine  at  the  old  plantation  door. 

I   was   gay   that   summer   morning 

And  all  nature  seem'd  in  tune; 
All  the  birds  were  sweetly  singing 

In   the   treetops,   bright   and   soon, 
When  I  left  the  old  plantation 

All  the  weary  world  to  roam; — 
Left  my  mother  weeping  for  me 

In  my   Mississippi  home. 

(Chorus.) 

Years  have  passed  since  that  glad  morning; 

Now  my  mother's  dead  and  gone; 
She  is   gently,   gently   sleeping 

In  the  churchyard  all 'alone. 
Oh,  the  message  sweet  she  sent  me 

O'er  the  ocean's  raging  foam, — 
Sent   the  truant  boy  who   left  her 

In    her    Mississippi   home. 

(Chorus.) 


IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER      45 

All   the  world  will  now  be  gloomy 

And  this   heart   be   full   of  pain, 
Since    I    left   my   darling   mother 

Ne'er  to  see  her  face  again. 
But   when   Death   shall   loose   these   fetters 

And   the   world    no    more    I   roam, 
I  will  meet  my  darling  mother 

In  that  bright  Eternal  Home. 

(Chorus.) 


46      IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER 
A  LONGING. 

I   sit   in   my  chamber  while  night   hovers  round 

Alone,  and  my  memory  flees 
Back,  back  to  the  days  of  sweet  childhood's  domain 

My  heartaches  once  more  to  appease. 
Ere  long  I'll  retire  to  my  couch  for  the  night 

Alone  with  no  sweet  words  of  cheer; 
O,  worlds  would  I  give  if  the  worlds  were  all  mine 

If  mother,  dear  mother,  were  here! 

How  fond  does  my  mem'ry  revert  to  the  time 

When  snugly  she'd  tuck  me  well  in, 
And  utter  a  prayer  as  alone  mothers  can 

To  make  me  all  guileless  from  sin. 
O,    mother,    come    back    from    the     world     where 
you've  gone 

And  tuck  me  well  in  for  the  night, 
My  heartaches  are  many  since  you  went  away ; 

Come  make  it  all  care-free  and  bright. 

'Tis  years  since  you  left  me  alone — all  alone — 

O,  come  just  tonight  once  again 
And  tuck  me  in  snugly  and  kneel  by  my  couch 

And  plead  for  my  freedom  from  sin, 
Temptations  are  many  since  you  went  away; 

The   days  and   the  nights   are  so   long; 
At  nightfall  no  prayer  and  at  morn  ne'er  a  kiss 

Nor  melody  sweet  of  your  song. 

I  wish  you  would  come,  mother  dear,  to  my  hear! 

And  tell  me  again  of  your  love, 
Just  fold  me  secure  to  your  arms  once  again 

And   fly   to   your   home   up   above. 
I'll  now  lay  me  down  in  my  couch  for  the  night 

Alone,    with  no  sweet  words  of  cheer. 
O,  worlds  would  I  give  if  the  worlds  were  all  mine 

If   mother,    dear   mother,    were   here! 


IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER      47 
FAREWELL  FOR  AYE  AND  AYE. 

To  my  Army  friend,  Charles  A.  Grandi,  Musician, 
Company  L  29th  Infantry,  this  effort  is  dedicated. 

In  a  pleasant  home  one  day,  in  Ohio  far  away, 

Stood  a  youth  his  last  farewell  to  say; 
"I  must  ramble,  Love,"  said  he,  "o'er  the  land  from 

sea  to  sea, 

Seeking  wealth  to  build  a  home  for  us  for  aye. 
When   I've   captured   wealth   and   fame   I   will   surely 

come  again 
And  in  old  Ohio  I  will  ever  stay." 

Chorus : 

So  o'er  the  wave  he  rambled,  while  the  waters  sang 

and  gamboled 

In   the   old   Ohio    River   near   his   home; 
The    girl    still    calmly    waited    for    her    love    so     long 

belated, 
And  she  often  wondered  why  he'd  never  come. 

When  the  Springtime  came  each  year  she  would  gently 

drop  a  tear, 

But  she  never  saw  the  grave  so  far  away; 
In  a  Cuban  valley  bright,  stars  would  gently  look  at 

night 

On  the  mound  where  slept  her  love  from  day  to  day ; 
And  the  wind  would  whisper  soft,  as  the  palm  trees 

waved  aloft, 
But  they  ne'er  disturbed  his  sleep  for  aye  and  aye. 

(Chorus.) 


48      IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER 
WHEN  I  AM  DEAD. 

When  the  April  flowers  are  blooming 

And   the   world   is   full   of  joy, — 
Not  a  cloud  to  mar  its  sweetness 

Nor  a  wind  its  peace  annoy; 
When  the  sky  above  is  shining 

With  a  face  unblurred  and  clear, 
I'll   be   sleeping   cold   and   lifeless, 

And  I  wonder  if  you'll  care. 


Will  you  ever  in  your  rambles 

Take   the  time  to  walk  around — 
Place  some  roses  or  some  lillies 

Fair  upon   my  lowly  mound? 
Will  you  long,  then,  for  the  accents 

Of  a  voice  that's  cold  and  still? 
Will  you,  when  you  ramble  near  me? 

Tell  me  if  you  ever  will! 

Or  when  Winter's  chilly  breezes 

Moan  above  my  lonely  bed, 
Will  you  ever  have  a  heartache 

When  you  think  that  I  am  dead? 
Will  your  footsteps  wander  gently 

Where  I  sleep  beneath  the  snow? 
Should  you  ever  wander  thither 

I  am  sure  that  I  shall  know. 


I'll  be  there,  tho'  you'll  not  see  me 
In  my  lowly,  narrow,  bed; 

O,  I  hope  you'll  not  forget  me 

When  I'm  slumb'ring  cold  and  dead! 

Let  one  link  in  Mem'ry's  cycle 
Still  cling  on  till  life  has  fled 

And  you  come  to  slumber  with  me 
In   the   City   of   the   Dead. 


IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER      49 
IN  THE  LONG  AGO. 

Yes,   my  form  may  now  be  bending 

And  my  locks  as  white  as  snow, 
But  the  day  has  long  since  vanished 

When  it  was  not  even  so. 
One  time  I  was  gay  and  sprightly, 

And  was  happy,  just  like  you, 
And  my  life  was  like  the  morning 

Sprinkled  o'er  with  drops  of  dew. 


Then  I  loved  a  little  maiden 

Near    the    blue    Tombigbee's    flow. 
(Oh,  how  sweet  to  dwell  upon  it 

Though  'twas  even  long  ago!) 
When  the  Mississippi  flowers 

By  the  wayside  wildly  grew, 
Gathered    we    the    four-leafed    clovers 

And  the  daisies,  bright  and  blue. 

We  would  listen  to  its  murmur 

As  the  bright  stream  swept  along, 
Rippling  o'er  the  stones  and  pebbles, 

Singing  e'er  a  merry  song. 
Thus   I   loved  a   little  maiden 

In  the  happy  Long  Ago, 
Where    the    flowers    bloom    forever 

Near  the  blue  Tombigbee's  flow. 

Years  passed  by,  and  I  had  rambled 

Far   across   the   ocean   wide, 
But   I   found  no   fairy  regions 

Over  on  the  other  side. 
When  my  rambling  mood  was  ended, 

Thought  I   of  the   river's  flow, 
And  the  maiden  who  had  loved  me 

In   the   lovely   long   ago. 


50      IDLE  SONGS  OF  AN  IDLE  SOLDIER 

When  I  reached  the  little  cottage 

All  around  was  mute  and  still 
Save  the  waters  falling  gently 

O'er  the  rustic  water  mill. 
Near   the   river's   mossy   margin 

Was  a  daisy-covered  mound 
Where  my  sweetheart  waited  calmly 

While   the  waters  sang  around — 

Sang  the  same  tune  it  had  murmured 

When  we  rambled  in  the  glow 
Of   a   pleasant   April   evening 

In  the  happy  Long  Ago. 
Still  this  life  is  not  the  ending, 

For  the  tender  cords  of  Love 
Which  have  severed  been  at  parting 

Will  united  be  above. 


Of  THE 

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SEXTON  ILL 

JUL  1  0  1997 
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50m-7f'2' 


YB  12058 


1916 


